Love is found in the gift of time we give ourselves. It is found in the small and beautiful places, the places we don’t believe we have time to notice because we are busy chasing the bigger dreams and visions that other people gave to us.

2 of Swans

Love is that single rose who blooms
vivid red to capture wandering looks
portal to a universe magical but true
yet whom summer breezes oft confuse
with the tired colors of old passersby
noise overwhelming flowers that cry,
for human ends do drag them far away
to resume the repeating and familiar day
whilst rose is left to dry petals falling
doors closing to the vast expanse of all
magic lost till when again Love calls.